


Inconceivable

by Anonymous



Category: Rivers of London - Ben Aaronovitch
Genre: F/M, I LOVE your stories - I'm just in a dark mood, I'm not accepting it yet, I'm shirking any responsibility, Sixthlight your stories are great but not dark enough for my taste, Spoilers for Lies Sleeping, Who wrote this? Not me I don't know what you are talking about, Why Did I Write This?, what did I even write?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-07 18:20:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17370959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: A variation on Sixthlight's "Magical Thinking". This won't make sense if you don't read it first.





	Inconceivable

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sixthlight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sixthlight/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Magical Thinking](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17347535) by [Sixthlight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sixthlight/pseuds/Sixthlight). 



> Inspired by Sixthlight's "Magical Thinking", because  
>  _"They'll look like me, of course," said Peter's father_ sounded so out of place I read it and went dark. Well, not Peter's father, no, but maybe another white guy?  
> I'm starting from the premise that your day seven occurred on day three.

_Day seven, evening._  
  
  
Even before he came in, Beverley knew it was Nightingale coming up the spiral staircase to the tech cave. His step was as heavy as any of the previous days or maybe even more so. That alone told her there weren't any news.  
  
Once she saw him it was worse. He was putting up a good front, but she could see he was tired.  
  
"I tried..." he started and trailed off before starting again. "According to the only location spell I could find, he isn't in London."  
  
"But that could mean anything." He added hastily.  
  
She didn't need him to say it could mean Peter being dead, or having been moved, or even walking the paths of the fae like he had last time.  
  
"He should stop doing this." Beverley murmured angrily. "Why can't you tell him to be more careful?"  
  
He looked taken aback. "Don't you think if I could I would already have done it? I wasn't - I'm still not enough to convince him to be less reckless!" His last words where deceivingly soft. "Maybe _you_ are in a better position to give him something to come back for."  
  
That was a low blow, especially coming from the Nightingale, and Beverley felt the hurt.  
  
"A fine _Master_ you make!" She spat.  
  
He winced and shuddered, standing stiffly upright for a few seconds before he sagged down.  
  
He looked broken like this, slowly folding over himself. "I know." He whispered.  
  
He was crying.  
  
Beverley felt like crying too. "Come here." She said.  
  
When he looked up, he wasn't bothering to hide his tears, so neither did she. "Come here." She repeated, taking a step forward and letting him bridge the rest of the distance.  
  
They collapsed in each other's arms and wept, as if their world had ended.  
  
A few breaths later Beverley felt the Nightingale stiffen, and try to pull away. She didn't let him, but allowed him some space and looked at him.  
  
"You smell like him." He said apologetically.  
  
"Molly gave me his clothes." She explained. "They were in Sahra's car."  
  
He closed his eyes. "I'm sorry."  
  
"Don't be." She scolded him gently. "Never, ever apologise for loving him. He'll need all of us to love him when... if..." She broke into tears again.  
  
He took her in his arms to console her and she kissed him.  
  
"Beverley..." She kissed him again and he didn't protest anymore.  
  
Together they broke. They took their desperation to each other, expressing their grief, their love of Peter, who wasn't there.  
  
Maybe it was a bad idea, but it was all they had. Each other.  
  


* * *

  
It did let them unwind, and let them spend all the tears they had to shed.  
  
"Let's never speak of this again." Beverley said.  
  
Thomas Nightingale nodded, then suddenly looked worried. "We didn't use any protection."  
  
She laughed bitterly. "I just had my period, remember?"  
  
Famous last words.


End file.
